“A child?”

“A six-year-old male, to be precise.” She waved her hand. “It may help if you think of this purely as a UNSC-funded physiological study.” Every trace of a smile evaporated from her lips. “Which is precisely what you are to tell anyone who asks. Is that understood, Lieutenant?”

“Yes, Doctor.”

Keyes frowned, retrieved his grandfather’s pipe from his pocket, and turned it end over end. He couldn’t smoke the thing—igniting a combustible on the flight deck was against every major regulation on a UNSC space vehicle—but sometimes he just fiddled with it or chewed on the tip, which helped him think. He stuck it back into his pocket, and decided to push the issue and find out more.

“With all due respect, Dr. Halsey, this sector of space is dangerous.”

With a sudden deceleration, they entered normal space. The main view screen flickered and a million stars snapped into focus. The Han dove toward a cloud-swirled gas giant dead ahead.

“Stand by for burn,” Dr. Halsey announced. “On my mark, Toran.”

Lieutenant Keyes tightened his harness.

“Three... two... one. Mark.”

The ship rumbled and sped faster toward the gas giant. The pull of the harness increased around the Lieutenant’s chest, making breathing difficult. They accelerated for sixty-seven seconds... the storms of the gas giant grew larger on the view screen—then the Han arced up and away from its surface.

Eridanus drifted into the center of the screen and filled the bridge with warm orange light.

“Gravity boost complete,” Toran chimed. “ETA to Eridanus is forty-two minutes, three seconds.”

“Well done,” Dr. Halsey said. She unlocked her harness and floated free, stretching. “I hate cryo sleep,” she said. “It leaves one so cramped.”

“As I was saying before, Doctor, this system is dangerous—”

She gracefully spun to face him, halting her momentum with a hand on the bulkhead.